Memory Lane
by eotopia
Summary: Elliot and Olivia wake up in bed together with no recollection of the past 24 hours. When a strange package arrives in the mail boasting answers they both seek, will they regret opening it? Style: Crack/Arthouse/SVU meets Mulholland Drive. E/O.
1. Sunday

_Summary: Elliot and Olivia wake up in bed together with no recollection of the past 24 hours._

 _When_ _a strange package in the mail arrives boasting answers they both seek, will they regret opening it?_

 _Style: SVU meets Mulholland Drive._

* * *

 _ **CHAPTER 1: SUNDAY**_

* * *

She rouses slowly.

Her face against pillow, her mouth is dry and there is a hefty weight on her back.

Her eyes blink open, a wave passes through her as if she is experiencing vertigo.

She takes in the unfamiliar bedside table with dark maroon furnishings.

 _Jesus where is she?_

She tries to move her hip but there is a man's hand on the ridge of her bare waist. She turns, her clammy skin slick against his as she attempts to move full circle but his weight is blocking her from moving off her front.

Her eyes slowly move up the muscular arm strewn across her body, confusion, disorientation and bewilderment all intermingling in her chest.

And when her eyes move up the path of his muscular arm she sees it.

A crucifix tattoo.

* * *

He feels movement stirring under his body.

He opens his eyes to see a flash of brown hair, bronze skin and stark red lace as the semi naked woman beneath him turns in his arms.

The smell of vanilla, sweat and sex fill his nostrils.

He clears his throat, his head is reeling in response to being conscious, confusion intermingling his chest as a flash of generous cleavage fills his eye line.

 _He must be dreaming._

His eyes move up from woman's lace bra and his mouth practically drops when he captures those bewildered brown almond eyes staring back at him.

Olivia Benson.

 _He's definitely dreaming._

* * *

She rears back a little, trying to separate their sticky clammy bodies.

"What the," her sleepy voice cracks as her hand slips downward, tugging the burgundy sheet upward and across her chest.

He's staring back at her with a look of confusion that mirrors hers.

"Elliot what is.." she whispers her voice trailing off as she tries to gather her bearings. She doesn't feel hung over, but she certainly doesn't feel lucid.

This feeling is entirely different to anything she has experienced and her chest is swarming in confusion as to just what happened in the past 24 hours.

He is staring at her blankly before his eyes move towards the bedside clock.

 _8:02am_

She licks her lips, her mouth dry as the desert.

She needs water and she needs it now.

"Liv," he says in a weighted breath, his crystal blues settling uneasily back on hers.

"What is going on?"

* * *

She clicks the bathroom door closed.

Her eyes settling on herself in the mirror.

Only the ghost of her lipstick remains as smudged markings of her eyeliner hides in the corners.

She lowers the sheet she has clasped around her body and she takes in the blemishes on her neck. Hickeys, light markings down the column of her throat to the tops of her breasts.

She lowers it even further, inspecting her body, turning in the mirror to gauge the state of her back, her thighs. Her eyes move across the red lace panties she is sporting, her eyebrows knitting together as to where they have even come from.

She doesn't even own red underwear.

 _What is happening?_

She is still feeling shaky on her feet so she leans forward, grasping the marble counter top in her palm before she is filling her hands with water, taking a few sips before splashing her face with cold water.

 _What the hell is going on?_

* * *

He hears the click of the door as she emerges from the bathroom, his burgundy sheet is wrapped tightly around her like saran wrap.

His eyes settle uneasily on her profile as she starts looking around the room.

She moves to his side of the bed, lifting her eyes up only briefly before she leans down and scoops up a cherry red dress from the floor. She inspects the piece of material in her hand with a look of hesitation.

"Is this mine?" she says in a whisper, still clinging to the sheet as a protective barrier.

His eyebrows raise then and he lets out a breath.

"I- I don't know?" He says honestly. "You don't remember wearing it?" He asks her.

"I don't even remember _owning_ it," she responds through a wavering breath.

He shakes his head, the questions between them only continuing to surmount.

"Liv.. what _is_ the last thing you remember?"

 **TBC**

* * *

 _AN: I'll post Monday's chapter on Monday (and so on)._


	2. Monday

_AN: Monday's never felt so good._

* * *

 **CHAPTER 2: MONDAY**

* * *

"You okay?"

He comes up behind her at the coffee station as she pours herself a generous cup.

Her hands shake a little at his presence.

They hadn't talked about it.

Not in depth.

Having woken up both just as blindsided as each other, there wasn't much to say. The last thing she had remembered was lying down to close her eyes on a Saturday afternoon - he had said similar. They had both laid down on their respective beds on opposite ends of town and woken up together the next morning.

 _Practically naked._

They had gone to the doctors to get themselves checked out, a blood test, a physical and an MIR.

Olivia had foregone a rape kit..

They were still waiting on the results.

They hadn't talked about the hickeys on her body or the slickness between her legs or the red raw scratches of passion that lined his back. And they certainly hadn't talk about the fact that she had felt fucked six ways from Sunday.

She had simply gone home, showered and chalked it up to a heavy night of drinking.

Even though they both knew that was far from the case.

* * *

"This isn't normal," Elliot whispers across their desks just incase she thought it was.

Her eyes lift up to his.

"We need to talk to someone," he says to her blank expression.

"And who do you propose we talk to?" She worries the file in her hands before she finally looks away.

"I don't know, a shrink, a neurologist.. people don't just wake up having no recollection of the past 24 hours Olivia," a few beats pass before he says it.

"Particularly not in the state we were found in."

Her eyes flit back up to his again and it's enough to gain his full attention. It's the first time he's hinted at anything beyond the two of them simply sleeping in the same bed together and she takes the bait.

"And what state was that Elliot?" She presses.

Imagery of her lace-clad body beneath him pounds through his chest, his mind still processing the lipstick marks he'd found on the most intimate parts of his body.

What state had they found themselves in?

 _Royally fucked._

* * *

She gets home that night and almost trips at her door.

A yellow envelope was left perched on her doorstep beneath her feet.

She bends down to scoop it up, hastily digging the keys into the lock and twisting the door open. She drops her bag, shrugs off her coat and turns the yellow envelope over in her palm.

O.L.I.V.I.A.B.E.N.S.O.N

Her eyes scan the hand written letters. Black magic marker bleeds across the envelope like a watermark and her face crinkles in response.

She opens the lip of the envelope carefully, knowing full well she will get Warner to run it for saliva DNA.

A little white card falls out onto the counter and when she shakes the open envelope further, a small blue plastic piece of hardware skitters across marble.

She turns the card over.

 _'So many questions._

 _So many lies,_

 _And all of it stored_

 _on one little flash drive.'_

* * *

She had drained half the glass of red before she got the nerve to slip the flash dive into her laptop but it took mere seconds for the icon to flash up.

'NONAME '

She took a few measured breaths before she double clicked on the E/: drive to reveal a video file.

Her fingers start to tremble slightly as she uses the tracking pad to hover the mouse over the file.

She doesn't know quite what to expect when she clicks it. Her first instinct is to first call Morales or Elliot but she simply closes her eyes, swallows her anxiety and double clicks on the icon.

The video file goes full screen before footage of a bed comes into focus.

She immediately thinks it's a crime scene, some unhinged peverted perp taunting her from afar with footage of his victims but as the dimly lit bedroom comes into view so does a shadowy figure.

 _Elliot._

Her breath catches, her heart beginning to hammer in her chest.

Her eyes rake over his form as he takes a seat on the edge of his bed and slowly peals off his tie before unbuttoning his shirt.

A few beats pass until another figure slowly comes into view.

 _Olivia_ , slipping cherry red material down her body and over her hips before she's moving Elliot backwards and climbing up the length of him.

 **TBC**

* * *

 _AN: Shall we take a poll on how much of that vid Olivia watched?_

 _A. Just that first bit. B. The entire thing.. twice. C. She invited Elliot over to watch the rest._

 _Happy Monday!_


	3. Tuesday

_I'm sorry!_ _I was supposed to post this a thousand Tuesday's ago._

 _I start stories and then I lose the drive to finish them. It's a curse._ _But this finally came out to play._

 _Thanks for the reviews!_

* * *

 **CHAPTER 3: TUESDAY**

* * *

 **9:02am**

She can feel his eyes on her.

God she can't do this, she can't even look up at him at this point.

From the moment she'd turned up at work that morning she'd been a bumbling mess and now the heat of his stare is causing a hue of blush to break out across her chest. She scratches her jaw and reluctantly looks up across their desks but she does a double take when she sees the seriousness masking his face. She holds his stare at that point as if she's trying to prove to herself that nothing has changed since she'd seen the video. That she can still look him in the goddamned eye. That his naked body on hers, writhing together in one big, sweaty mass hasn't fucked completely with her head.

"You look like you've seen a ghost."

Of course he's picking up on it. She's got a goddamn poker face every damn day of the week, but this she has no hope of hiding. Her eyes instantly flit to Munch and Fin, gauging if their distance is within earshot before her eyes return to Elliot and then finally to the case file in front of her.

"I'm fine," she responds in a whisper, not willing to risk it.

"Yeah.. you keep saying that."

There's no escaping the awkwardness. Images of her dragging his pants down the length of his body before she lowers her mouth onto his hardness, his fingers bunching fistfuls of her hair in his palms come flashing to the forefront and her chest continues to pound under his gaze.

She finally manages to avert her eyes as she fingers the file in front of her.

"Then stop asking."

* * *

 **3:31pm**

Fin walks through the door and Olivia looks up just in time to see him drop a yellow package on Elliot's desk.

She does a double take when she sees the familiar black magic marker bleeding across yellow and her heart begins to thud in her chest.

"Mail's in."

She watches Elliot's eyes take in the strange yellow envelope while Olivia's pulse thrums with anxiety.

E.L.L.I.O.T.S.T.A.B.L.E.R

He lifts it in his hands, his eyebrows etching together as he turns it over to inspect the writing before he slowly pulls at the tag to open the lip.

She watches him shake out the small piece of hardware.

A flash drive.

 _Red._

He wastes no time inserting it into his computer and it's instant, she's up and it's seconds before she makes it to his desk covering his hand with hers.

She crouches down, she has no idea what to actually say but hopes her face will convey it all. A few beats pass as the tension between them surmounts before the door behind them bursts opens and Cragen stalks into the bullpen.

"Liv I need you to get a second statement from the Mendez witness, she'll be here in 10. And Elliot, Warner has those results, Cabot needs them before court."

"Sure Cap," Elliot responds, slipping his hand out from underneath Olivia's before he is grabbing the coat from the back of his chair and tugging it on.

Olivia moves the red piece of hardware into her back pocket before their eyes meet in one last heated stare before Elliot departs.

* * *

 **11:21pm**

She takes a large swig of her glass of red wine before she closes her eyes.

She had purposefully left the precinct before Elliot had returned from Warner's but she knew it would be a matter of seconds before she got a text, a call or at the very worst–

There was a firm knock on the door.

 _Shit._

Her heart starts to hammer in her chest once more. She could ignore it. She could pretend she wasn't home or asleep - _it was late after all._ But she knew she'd have to face the music eventually and better to do it in her apartment than a crowded bullpen.

She drains the rest of her glass attempting to counter her shaky nerves before she pulls open the door.

"Hey," she whispers, making fleeting eye contact before he enters her apartment.

When she turns around he is holding out the small piece of cardboard that looks familiar to her. She shuts the door, her eyes briefly dropping down to the note but she doesn't take it.

"I ah ..I know what it says," she whispers, not needing to see it, just simply folding her arms in front of her body somewhat protectively as she tries to figure out how to disarm this situation.

" _So many secrets, so many lies and all of it stored on one little flash drive,"_ he repeats for good measure before dropping it onto her kitchen counter.

He just stares at her then as if he's waiting for her to explain it.

"I take it you know what's on it too?"

She holds his eye contact before her eyes motion to the open yellow envelope perched on her kitchen counter, leaving him to fill in the blanks.

O.L.I.V.I.A.B.E.N.S.O.N

He slowly walks over and picks it up, noticing that it's empty inside, aside from the same note. He drops it back down before he scans her surroundings.

"Okay," he blows out a breath before his eyes settle on her. "So where is it?"

She doesn't answer, just scratches her temple awkwardly in front of him.

"Listen El-"

He steps a little closer and she backs up suddenly, her lower back knocking into the counter behind her as if she expects his hands on her at any minute. _The ones from the video._

He stops in his tracks, taken aback by her reaction but there is no mistaking the heat spreading right to her cheeks as she flushes in front of him.

"Ah Liv.. what's going on?" he whispers, his eyebrows etching together in concern.

Her fingers curl over the countertop and she remains silent. She can't seem to reconcile the Elliot in front of her from the Elliot in the video, it's as if she's on high alert just expecting him to just _take her_ at any moment.

Elliot's eyes move slowly back and forth between hers before he says it.

"I mean there must be something pretty bad on there if you're willing to steal it from me."

He lets the accusation hang between them and she waits a few beats before she pushes her self off the counter. She needs to put some space between them so she can buy time, so she heads towards the coffee table.

"I was saving you the embarrassment of playing it at work," she tells him nonchalantly as if he should be happy she did him a favour. He follows her to the living room where there is a sea of papers scattered around her laptop.

"Okay," he comes to a stop behind her. "Well we're not a work now."

The words fall on her back and her heart thuds at the prospect of him wanting her to actually play it for him like it's the goddamn movie of the week.

 _Should she microwave some popcorn?_

She turns around, trying to play it off like she isn't panicking internally, as if every fibre and cell in her body wasn't on fire right now at the mere fact at what he was suggesting.

"Is it on you?" he whispers.

Her eyebrows raise and she's shocked by his blatant comment. She's desperate to take a step back, to distance herself from him but equally wants to meet him face to face at that presumptuous comment of his.

"I saw you put it in your back pocket," he explains. "At the precinct."

But there is something about his tone that's making her nervous. The Elliot she knows wouldn't grab her to find out, the Elliot she knows wouldn't cross that line, but the way he's looking at her now and after the content of that video she couldn't be sure.

She goes to say something before she stops herself. There is heat in her cheeks from the wine and it's making her light headed. She doesn't trust her voice right now.

He steps forward again and her hands come up immediately grasping his forearms as if she were expecting him to grab her but she realizes quickly he'd been going for the laptop. He stops in her hold, they're so close in proximity that she can feel his body heat through his thin cotton shirt. He looks downward to where she is holding him.

"I ah.. it's not," she whispers, her voice practically choking, damn he feels so hard. "On me," she finishes awkwardly, still not taking her hands off him. He leans in then, his nose bumping her cheek ever so briefly, hovering a few beats before he says it.

"Convincing."

She feels a shiver run down her spine. _Damn_ him, she's practically putty in his hands. They haven't flirted before, not even post the knowledge that they'd slept together unknowingly - but this right here, her hands on him, unmoving, is the most intimate they've ever been.

"Liv," he whispers, attempting to disarm the tension somewhat. "I'm not gonna frisk you." The words fall in the space between them, his accent is thick and her chest pounds at the concept. Her mind swarming with images of his hands roaming across her body, her hips, her ass, her breasts - searching for the drive. "But I'm also not leaving until I get answers."

Reality hits then and her eyes move up to his until she finally, reluctantly takes her hands off him. She moves towards the couch, she needs distance, she needs to be sitting down for this. She needs to feel settled before she even entertains the idea of diving into this with him.

She takes a seat, clasping her hands together just to keep them still before her eyes lift up to his.

"Elliot.. I just.." she begins her nose steepled in her hands, and the way it comes out it's almost as if she's at a loss, a plea for him to just drop it because he doesn't understand what he's about to unleash. But that's where her words stop and after a few moments of helplessness she knows there is no more stalling.

She lets out a pained sigh of surrender before she's pushing a stack of folders aside to reveal the red flash drive. She watches his eyes rake over it before she lifts it up. She's not even looking at him as she holds it out just hoping he would take it and go.

 _But he doesn't._

Instead she feels the couch bow beneath his weight as he takes a seat beside her.

She looks over at him then, an inch between their thighs as he drags the open laptop towards him and reaches for the USB in her hand.

She moves the flashdrive quickly out of his reach before her other hand presses softly against his chest to stop him. "Not here," she warns, but he moves closer, reaching for her arm. His nose bumps her temple in the pursuit. Her mouth parts as his large hands grasp her hips and he drags her towards him. A noise leaves her throat, their lips aligning at that point. Her heart hammering as his chest presses up against hers, not quite sure what to expect from him. Her hand holding the drive is still behind her back as he takes a few breaths before he slowly releases her bicep as if he's suddenly come to his senses.

He looks at her as if he wasn't sure what had come over him.

"Sorry..I.."

He's apologizing to her but her body is spiralling out of control. The hard feel of his hands on her just now kicking in like muscle memory from that night. He's looking at her now like they've been here before and she can feel it too. A fresh hue of redness fills her cheeks and all she can think about is the memory of how he tasted.

God she wants to remember.

 _Badly._

He is staring at her intently as she tries to reign in her breathing. She knows she's got a matter of minutes before everything is going to change between them. There will be no going back after he sees them in all their glory. She wants to say something to counter the imagery he's about to witness but there are no words.

So she moves forward in one motion, her heart hammering with trepidation, her mind screaming at her not to do but it's too late. She seals his mouth with hers in one definitive, mind numbing moment. She closes her eyes, her heart pounding in her chest as all the air expels from her body. She doesn't want the footage to be the first thing he remembers so she makes it this _._

She opens her mouth against his, slowly - deliberately, before she is sucking intently on his lower lip. She's slow, gentle, methodical – a far cry from the footage he is about witness. She opens his mouth with hers, sliding her tongue between his lips, enticing a low throaty moan from him that pulsates right down to the deepest parts of her belly.

Fuck.

 _Just a kiss_ – she thinks, just _one,_ and then she'll stop. But she's already lost in it, leather upholstery cracking under their weight as she moves him further back on the couch. She slides her tongue between his lips swiping the tip of his tongue with hers, a low hum vibrating from his throat in response. Her breasts are pressing against his upper arm as her fingers dig into the muscles of his neck but they're at an angle. She needs to be front on so she does it without thinking, moving upward and into a straddling position.

Their lips break for a second before they're back on his and she doesn't hold back, her breasts pressing against the hard wall of his chest as he slides her hips forward until they connect. She nips his top lip, teasing him with light pecks until he grasps her mouth fully and a low moan leaves the back of her throat.

She traces his lower lip with her tongue before he seizes her top lip, moaning against his mouth so lost in the moment that she doesn't feel his hands encircle her wrists moving them off his face until their foreheads connect in a breath.

"Liv," he breathes against her mouth and her eyes flit open, a mixture of confusion and concern staring back at her as she tries to catch her breath.

"What are you..." he whispers out of breath. But she doesn't catch the words, she's too focused on how familiar this tastes, how familiar this feels and how little restraint she has with him now. Her swollen lips hover, desperate to move back into their heated embrace.

"This is a distraction," his eyes move in between hers slowly, a panicked look in his eyes as if he's only just realizing something. "You're stalling."

 _So many secrets, so many lies.._

She pulls back at that point, her chest pummelling with confusion as he holds her wrists mid air. She blinks down at him taken aback, he must think she's in on it. That there is something on that flashdrive that she's hiding, that makes her culpable. Does he really think she'd do _this_ just to stall him?

 _All of it stored on one little flash drive._

 _A memory._ She wants to tell him heatedly, _that's_ what this is. But he's not going to understand it let alone believe her until he sees the footage for himself. She pulls her wrists out of his capture, just staring at him blankly before she is moving off him entirely, sitting back on the couch, breathing through the shock of what just happened.

She's still gripping the flash drive in her clammy palm, the one that will rupture their past, present and future but she knows it's the only way she can bridge this gap of reality. She holds out the rectangular grenade, her chest pounding with nerves, her eyes pricking with moisture just waiting for him to take it.

"This isn't me," she whispers, her voice trembling. "And I'm pretty sure it isn't you either."

She looks at him again but he doesn't take it, just stares at her in a hue of confusion and trepidation until she stands up, dropping the drive on the coffee table with a careless clatter, leaving him to take his own trip down Memory Lane.

* * *

 **TBC**

 _AN:_ _Will_ _Elliot.. A. Watch it in her apartment B. Follow her into the bedroom C. Take it home with him and watch OR D. Watch it AND THEN follow her into the bedroom. ***side eye emoji***_


	4. Wednesday

_AN: Oh look here is another fic I abandoned! Lets update this one too!_

* * *

 **CHAPTER 4: WEDNESDAY**

* * *

 **12:02pm**

He hears the door to her bedroom slam firmly shut and waits a few beats, his mind swarming with endless questions.

 _The fuck?_

He's still reeling over the taste of her, still processing the fact that her full lips were on his, her breasts pushing into his side as she ransacked his lips. God, his ears were still ringing with the sound of her moan, the vibrations of her hum as she pressed herself against him.

His eyes move from the flash drive to her bedroom door in a wild debate. Did it really matter at that point what was on there? His body was screaming at him to follow her in there and continue that kiss but his mind was urging him to seek the answers that had been plaguing him since Sunday.

 _How much does she know?_

 _Does she remember the night they were together?_

 _'So many questions.. so many lies.'_

His fingers curl over the drive, the only thing left to shed light on this. He inserts the drive into the USB port, his heartbeat thudding as his hand hovers over the video file _._ He double clicks on it, his eyes lifting to the bedroom door, half expecting it to burst open at any second and have her storm out here the moment it starts to play.

His eyes take in a blank screen, just waiting for it to roar into life.

* * *

The first image he sees is his bedroom coming into the forefront.

The room is dark, the only illumination coming from a dim lamp in the corner casting shadows across her body as she turns in front of the camera.

Her cherry red dress dips low in the front, clinging to her hips like saran wrap as she pulls out the clip holding her hair in an up-do, a flurry of curls dropping downward and fanning her cheeks as she brushes it backward with her fingers.

 _Christ,_ she looks incredible.

He hadn't seen her in that dress, he'd only spied it pooled in a heap on his bedroom floor.

She looks stunning.

He enters the frame, eyeing her intently as he moves her backwards. His hands sliding up her neck, drawing her forward as his fingers splay through her curls.

He stares at her long and hard, holding her in his hands before his mouth is on hers. He kisses her firmly, wholeheartedly, parting her lips with his as he moves her backwards, the back of her knees hitting the bed as he deepens the kiss. He watches his hands slide down her body until their roaming over her hips, her ass, before one slips upward and squeezes her breast.

Elliot's eyes widen at the scene before him, unable to quite believe this is happening.

He watches himself rasp something inaudible in her ear before he pushes her clean onto the bed and she falls with a bounce. She barely has a moment to gather her bearings before he is grasping her ankle and sliding her back down the bed, climbing up the length of her body and sealing their lips once more.

* * *

It had been 20 minutes since she'd closed the door behind her.

She can hear sounds coming from outside.

 _Panting._

 _Writhing._

 _Moaning._

 _Fucking._

 _Pounding._

She closes her eyes.

 _What the hell?_

 _How did they get here?_

Elliot Stabler, perched on her couch watching a goddamn porno of their amnesiac sexcapades while she paces insider her bedroom door.

 _She should go out there._

 _Put an end to this._

 _Now._

She can hear herself moaning behind a closed door for Christ sake.

By now he's already watched her go down on him.

 _Straddle him._

She's probably about to fuck him.

Ride him until he comes.

 _Fuck fuck fuck._

She sucks in a breath, pushing the bedroom door open. She is done with him watching this in her apartment. She is done with him watching it full stop.

She moves through the living room, dropping to her knees and grasping the laptop, pausing the video mid moan.

She sits back against the edge of the couch catching her breath.

She can't even look at him or the screen.

"Elliot I can't…" she begins, scrubbing a hand down her face. "I can't let you watch this here."

He's mostly silent behind her but she can feel the shock and the myriad emotions that must be swarming through him right now.

"God, I'm so sorry Liv," he whispers.

She blinks, looking straight ahead confused by his apology.

"I should be the sorry one Elliot…" she responds. "I instigated the whole thing."

She feels a pause, before upholstery ripples behind her as he leans further forward.

"What are you talking about – Liv, that was all me."

She looks over her shoulder at that point, their eyes connecting for the first time since she had returned and a pang of nerves flood through her. When he doesn't explain, her eye-line moves back to the screen and she sees it, paused on an unfamiliar scene of Elliot on top of her naked body, driving into her from behind.

Her eyes widen.

The entire scene looks foreign to her.

She doesn't remember this part from her tape.

"What is this…" her words trail off, confusion culminating.

"I know Liv… I don't know what to sa-"

"No I," her words cut him off as she takes in the sight before her. "Elliot, this.. this isn't what I watched… this isn't the same footage."

Elliot swallows behind her. "What are you talking about?"

She shoves her hand under the stack of papers until she finds the blue USB.

She holds it up to him.

"This version," she whispers through a breath. "Certainly doesn't end like that."

 **TBC**


	5. Still Wednesday

_AN:_ _I figured this would be a good one to update for V-day._

 _Story Reminder: SVU meets Mulholland Drive (Nonsensical crack-fiction)._

 _Enjoy and Happy Valentine's Day!_

 _X_

* * *

 **CHAPTER 5: STILL WEDNESDAY**

* * *

 **1:32am**

Olivia stands in the kitchen worrying her lower lip, her hands clutching her glass of red.

They had established there were two sets of videos from the same night, the same red dress, the same bedroom - just two very different scenarios.

Elliot was the aggressor in his.

Olivia was the aggressor in hers.

Both of them left the other feeling culpable for their actions.

He had warned her what was on his flash drive but she hadn't been entirely prepared for it when she watched.

The imagery had made her cheeks heat to the point of combustion. He was bold, brash, intense and had taken her in every sense of the word and what's more she had let him. It was a stark parallel to the dominance she had displayed in her own video, neither of them able to hold back.

 _None of this made sense.._

How could they both have no recollection of either scenarios?

She was still staring at the closed door where Elliot had left earlier as if expecting him to return at any moment. She had asked him to leave tonight, not because she couldn't handle the idea of him watching the rest of the footage in her home but because she couldn't trust what would happen after it ended.

She exhaled nervously in her kitchen, wondering just how she is going to focus around him now when her body was still trembling with residual want.

She needs a cold shower.

* * *

 **6:50am**

He wakes up slowly, all of his muscles feeling stretched and sore and lethargic like he had run a marathon in his sleep. He blinks against the brightness, shielding his eyes from the light and when he rolls onto his side he knocks into something solid.

His eyes slip open and he sees it.

Red underwear.

She is moving, turning, cleavage filling his eyeline, red lace, smudged smoky eyes, a mind numbing sense of da'jarvou hitting him in that moment. But instead of a shocked, perplexed expression radiating back from Olivia, he simply sees a sleepy, playful smirk beaming back at him.

"Mornin'," she whispers, her voice slightly huskier than usual.

He thinks he must be dreaming because she is slipping onto his bare chest, her semi naked form climbing on top of him like it was the most natural thing in the world. She presses her mouth against his, dragging his lower lip between hers before he knows what has hit him.

She makes a sound against his mouth before she slowly pulls back.

"Mmmm," she hums. "A very good morning indeed." She presses her upper thigh against his morning wood and his breath catches.

"Ah Liv.." he questions uneasily, clutching her lace covered hip, unable to process how she has ended up in his bed again. "What are you-"

"Shhh," she cuts him off. "I've been waiting all night for you to wake up," she groans impatiently, leaning forward, nipping at his lower lip, her mouth curling into a sultry smile before she pulls back. "Well that's a lie," she whispers breathily, her hand slipping between their bodies and cupping him through his briefs causing his eyes to slip closed as she starts to stroke him through his underwear. "I didn't wait," she hums as her nails scrape lightly up his covered shaft. "I just took."

He grabs her wrist then and rolls her onto her back, dislodging their bodies but keeping her pinned on the bed. He looks down at her, hair fanned beneath him, pure desire radiating back up at him. His chest pounds as he takes in her bra clad cleavage, a surge of want coursing through his lower abdomen at how easily he could take her in this position but it's his mind that's taking over.

"You wanna fill me in on what's going on?" He whispers, his mind going into overdrive with potential scenarios.

Surely, she is fucking with him and it's all starting to make sense now.

Like hell she doesn't remember the tapes, she probably orchestrated this whole thing.

She doesn't answer, her smile simply broadens beneath his as she tries to lift her mouth up to kiss him once more but she only manages a whisper of a touch before she drops her head back down on the pillow in surrender.

"How did you get in here?" He asks somewhat accusatorially, still holding her wrists in place.

"You already forgotten last night El?" She cocks an eyebrow. "Somehow I find that hard to believe."

He has no idea what she is referring to, but it registers then, the residual ache in his lowerhalf, her swollen chafed lips, light markings on her throat and breasts.

His body is a visceral ache.

 _They fucked again._

Only this time she seems to be the only one who remembered it.

"What day is it?" He whispers confused.

"Who the hell cares?" She hisses in his ear, moving up and rubbing the tip of his cock with her thigh. "I want you to take me like you did last night?"

She spreads her legs then, moving them either side of his hips, drawing his erection flush up against her lace panties and he cannot stifle the moan that erupts when their lower-halves connect. He curses, a long drawn out _fuckkkk_ escaping as his fingers dig into her wrists, then he's powerless to stop himself from rocking into her hips like it's muscle memory, both of them responding eagerly to the motion.

"Mmmm, that's better," she licks her lips. "Take them off El."

He is pure granite now, a low vibrational hum escaping from his throat as his tip partially begins to penetrate through lace.

 _Fuck._

"It's Wednesday right?" He manages through sharp breaths, the question seeming so ridiculous in that moment but he is beyond confused about what is happening.

"We have work today."

She ignores him, her lace covered nipples scraping against his chest with each motion. "I'm not going to be able to concentrate on a damn thing until we fuck El." The crass response comes out of her mouth and he loses it then, his lips moving downward, latching onto her throat, sucking and nipping before one hand is tugging her panties down her thighs. He manages them part way down before she gladly assists with his, then his chest pounds as she nips at his chin, his throat, his jawline. He parts her legs then with his own, cupping her face, holding her darkened eyes steady, his body overtaking his mind as he sinks into her dripping centre without pretence.

 _Jesus Christ._

No foreplay.

No lead up.

Just pure fucking heat.

* * *

 **8:23am**

Elliot storms into the precinct.

His mind still unable to process what the hell just happened.

He had lost control and after climaxing inside his partner he had retreated to the shower, needing a moment alone to compose himself, hoping the water would clear his mind and bring back memories from the night prior.

No such luck.

But what was more alarming was reemerging from the bathroom to find Olivia had vanished - the tangled up sweaty, sex scented sheets the only tell-tale signs she had been there to begin with and now here he was, arriving at work twenty minutes later than he should have been, with absolutely no idea where his partner was.

He spots her immediately from behind and his brows instantly furrow, confusion swarming as to how she had beat him here - rush hour traffic alone would have delayed her considerably, especially if she had gone home to change which by the looks of things she had.

His eye-line shifts to Fin and Munch who both give him a morning nod before he takes a seat at his desk opposite her.

She looks up at him and when their eyes connect she gives him a non-committal smile, the kind he'd expect from her any day of the week.

It shakes him how composed she is.

Her hair done, her make up on, no smudged mascara.

She even looks freshly showered.

"You're late." Munch's voice says from afar. "Cragen was asking for you earlier."

Elliot hears the words but his eyes are still glued to Olivia's face, watching as she casually sips her coffee, completely absorbed in the file in front of her.

He stands up after a few solid seconds, his eyes trailing down her neck, her chest, searching for any tell-tale signs of their encounter that morning and he waits for her eyes to lift questioningly to his.

 _They don't._

He lets out a sigh before he moves towards Cragen's office, closing the door firmly behind him with a frustrated click.

* * *

 **3:15pm**

"Can we talk?"

He leans over the back of her chair probably too close than he should be but fuck it, it's late afternoon and they still hadn't talked. In fact she hadn't said shit to him that hadn't involved a case or a file and his patience was starting to wear thin.

Munch and Fin were out on the field and Cragen wasn't in his office so he was taking this opportunity.

She turns to find him looming over her and he watches the reaction to his proximity flit across her face. She pushes her chair back a little, knocking into him slightly as she rises, seemingly confused by his sudden shift in demeanour.

She drops her pen on the desk only she doesn't look sheepish, she looks confused and annoyed that he's suddenly interrupting her for some unknown reason. He motions towards the locker-room and when she starts to head towards it he's unable to prevent his eye-line from dropping down to her ass.

 _Fuck._

He closes the door behind them and when she turns around to face him she's sporting a neutral yet impatient expression.

"What's up?" She asks him tiredly with hands on her hips.

He stares at her bemused, her indifference throwing him for six.

"What's up..?" He repeats with an eyebrow raise, looking around the room briefly trying to reign in his disbelief before his eyes return to hers. "That how you wanna play this?"

He watches her eyebrows furrow in genuine confusion. "Play what Elliot?"

He scrubs a hand over his mouth and he gives her a humourless smile, frustration starting to seep through his muscles at the fact that she's completely shutting down.

"You can drop the act Olivia."

"What act?" She presses, staring at him dumfounded, looking at him like she genuinely has no idea what he is talking about.

"So you're going with blanket denial then?"

He starts to head towards the door but she moves in front of it, her back flattening against the wood, preventing him from leaving.

"You wanna tell me what the hell you're accusing me of before you storm out of here?"

He looks down at her annoyed expression, at that mouth, the one that had been brushing over his this morning and his eyes linger there before they lift back up to her eyes.

"How did you get to work?" He asks her plainly. "Just tell me that much because that's the part I can't figure out."

"What are you talking about–"

"This morning Liv.." he presses. "Did you drive straight here? Did you shower at the precinct? Do you keep a change of clothes in your locker?"

He watches the confusion emanate out of her every pore.

"Elliot I showered at home like I always do. I've been here since 6am doing paperwork. What the hell is this about?"

"Bullshit." He fires back.

"Excuse me?" She spits.

He pushes off the door then, dismissing the blatant lie, a sudden thought crossing his mind. He stalks over to her locker, opening it roughly and beginning to sort through it, desperate to find a hint of red underwear or that damn red dress but he sees nothing but a grey hoodie and some spare work boots.

She steps in front of her locker, enforcing a barrier between them.

"What the hell are you looking for?"

He looks down at her breasts then, desperate to know what colour her bra is beneath her sweater, it's the only way he will know for sure. His chest pounds at the thought but he does it quickly, seizing the material at her shoulder, drawing it to the side until it exposes a black bra strap.

She whacks his hand away with force.

"What the hell Elliot— "

"—you gotta stop fucking with me Liv," he hisses, walking her back up against the lockers until they rattle beneath her weight. "Whatever this is that you're doing, it's not funny and it stops now."

She moves away quickly, darting around him, realizing he's on some war path she knows nothing about and is at risk of getting caught in the crossfire.

"You've got 5 seconds to tell me what you think I have done," she rasps. "Or _I'm_ done."

He rests his palm against the side of her open locker, pressing his eyes closed, trying to get a hold of himself, he knows anger isn't going to help him in this situation and every second that passes seems to be driving a further wedge between them.

"When you woke up this morning," he turns to her slowly. "You were-"

"Home." She spits. "Like I am am every morning Elliot. Then I came in early. You can ask Fin - he was here too."

He slams her locker shut.

"Fine." He rasps. "You were home."

He takes a moment to compose himself, his mind flitting back and forth between the memories, trying to pin point something rational or tangible, some sort of proof he can use to prove that she is bullshitting. He takes in her fiery expression, his eyes dropping down to her lips then and it hits him, if he can't get his answers from her verbally he's going to get them physically. It's a ballsy move but if he learnt anything from her actions this morning, it was that her body doesn't lie.

He moves forward, grasping her cheek before she has time to register, sealing their lips firmly before his body follows suit. He hears the sharp intake of breath as he unapologetically backs her up against the lockers. She lets out a sound as he parts her lips, attempting to deepen the kiss but it's seconds before she is twisting her face away from his, shoving him off her with force.

"Have you lost your goddamn mind," she breathes out, glaring at him.

"I'm sorry."

"Damn right you are." She uses a thumb to swipe at her lips.

She steps away from him then and he swallows, something inside only just clicking as he registers the gravity of the situation.

He knows that by her accounts that morning in bed hadn't happened but now he is wondering if any of it had.

 _Last night at her apartment.._

 _The kiss on her couch.._

 _The flash drive.._

He had just kissed her but it felt like the first time.

 _Fuck._

His heart thrums wildly at the possibility that none of this was real.

"Shit wait -Liv, please," he whispers, regret and concern churning in his stomach. "I'm sorry I just - I need to know one thing."

She turns around, her expression still ablaze and he knows this next question will seal his fate.

"Do you still have it?" He whispers shakily, chancing a half step closer. "Do you still have the flash drive?"

He watches the question register on her face, his entire sense of sanity hinging on her answer.

"What flash drive Elliot?"

 **TBC**


	6. Thursday

_AN: In response to the confused reviewers that's correct, this fic is like Momento, Inception, Mullholand Drive etc, all of those arthouse cracky movies that don't really make a lot of sense but are a fun mind-f**k._

* * *

 **CHAPTER 6: THURSDAY**

* * *

 **7:11am**

Elliot wakes up alone, but his sheets still smell of her.

He had sent himself home after the locker room incident. If it wasn't the warning in Olivia's eyes that did it, it would have been Cragen's suspicions.

He was now taking a couple days off to clear his head. He didn't trust his judgment on the job and more to the point he didn't trust himself around Olivia anymore.

It _wasn't_ a dream, that much he knows for sure.

It was real.

All of it.

Real as the day is long.

And so was that rectangular piece of hardware, the one that he conveniently can't find now. He had torn his house apart looking for it when he got home, desperate to find tangible proof of the footage so he could throw it back in her face.

He had left it jutting out of his laptop and now it was gone.

 _Vanished._

A distant memory.

Like Olivia from his bed.

He tried to take comfort in the fact that he's scheduled a sit down with Huang tomorrow, he'd requested a private off the record session but he's still not sure it's the right decision. If he opens up about this whole ordeal, word will undoubtedly travel back to Cragen and he'll not only be out of a partner, he'll be out of a job.

 _So Elliot, what brings you here today?_

 _I fucked my partner multiple times but she doesn't remember it._

Besides, even if he were to offer only half truths, he knows they can't be partners after this.

He's too far gone.

He rolls over onto his side, imagery of her curves, her mouth, her writhing body beneath his start to resurface and he's hard against the mattress again. He presses his eyes closed, shoving his arms under the pillow, begging sleep to take over but it's her scent that continues to whirl around him, wafting through his nostrils, teasing him, tempting him, toying with him and he holds onto it.

The last ounce of proof that she was here.

* * *

 **4:44pm**

He'd fallen asleep on the couch later that day and it was a knock on the door that had stirred him awake. He scrubs a hand over his face before he moves off the sofa, foregoing the peephole because at this point it didn't matter who it was.

He turns the handle, a whip of air making her hair flutter around her face when it opens.

Olivia.

His heart starts to thud, waiting for a tirade of accusatory slurs to slam into him.

But she is silent.

Quiet.

Standing there with an almost nervous pretense.

"Hey." She says quietly, her eyes moving off his face to survey the inside of his apartment before they come back to his. "Did I wake you?"

She must have caught the blanket and pillow on his couch.

"No, you're good," he rubs a hand down the curve of his neck, surprised by her amicable demeanor.

By all accounts she should be pissed as hell at him after yesterday's incident but she seems placid today.

"You wanna come in?" He motions for her to step through the threshold and when she does, she looks up at him as she enters.

"Have you got anything to drink?" She asks, still hovering close to the exit as if she's not entirely sure she'll stay.

"Ah, yeah." He responds stepping towards the fridge. "I've got water, beer-"

"Actually," she stops him with a hand on his forearm, shaking her head like she's just forgotten something. "It's probably best I don't stay. I just came to tell you I ran the prints on the envelopes and Warner's checking for saliva DNA. We should have the results by tomorrow."

Her hand falls away from his arm when she sees the look on his face.

"What envelopes?" He questions flatly, his heart starting to thud in confusion.

"The ones containing the flash drives," she responds simply.

He is dumfounded.

He watches her step a little further into his apartment, her eyes moving across the his couch-bed once more. "I've asked them to check for prints on the drives too. I know our prints would be all of them but it wouldn't hurt, maybe they can construct a partial. That's why I'm here, to pick yours up."

She turns around then and catches his blindsided expression.

He is dead silent, his eyes moving between hers, completely dumbfounded that she has just done a complete 180.

"Really Liv." He tries to reign in his temper. "So you're just going to stand there and flat out pretend like nothing happened?"

He watches a flush of heat move up her neck at the question.

"Ah El, I was hoping we could.." she looks away, her words trailing off as she presses her lips together awkwardly. "You know.. park that for now, just until we figure out what's going on. I really don't think I have the mental capacity to talk about what's on those tapes."

"That's not what I'm talking about." He rasps. "Yesterday at the precinct, in the locker room, you blanket denial - that academy award worthy performance of yours," he pauses heatedly. "And now this?"

"What are you.." her words trail off uncomfortably as she steps back a little. "El I wasn't at the precinct yesterday." She looks just about as confused as he does. "That's why I'm here. To pick up your drive." A few beats of silence pass. "El we talked about this-"

"We talked about shit." He turns away from her then, stalking further into the living room, wishing he had a firm surface handy to slam his hands into.

Because he knows. He already knows. A slice of dread moving through his body at the realization. This isn't the same Olivia from the locker room and it certainty isn't the same Olivia from his bed.

"What on earth is going on El?" she whispers, chancing a step closer.

He turns around a little too quickly.

"When was the last time you saw me..in person?"

She looks at him as if she doesn't understand the question.

"Was it at your apartment, that night on the couch when you.. when we.."

 _Kissed._

He watches her cheeks flame once more under his stare. "El do we really have to do th-"

"Just answer the question."

"Yes." She snaps back. "That was the last time. I haven't seen you since."

"And the next morning… where do you wake up?"

The million dollar question.

His heart is pounding as he waits.

"At home."

He turns away from her then, his eyes falling back down to the crumpled linen littering the couch.

"So you never came into the precinct yesterday? Not once? Not even for a minute?"

She comes up behind him. "No," she says firmly. "We agreed that I'd deal with the envelopes and you'd cover for me. Now do you wanna fill me in on what the hell is going on?"

He looks over his shoulder at her before taking the few remaining steps to the couch.

He sits down, running a hand over his face, taking a moment to gather his thoughts and piece this together.

This is what he knew:

 _There was black underwear precinct Olivia who had zero recollection of anything._

 _There was red lacy underwear Olivia who had woken up in his bed._

 _And now there was the Olivia in his apartment who knows about the flash drives._

His eyes lift up to hers at that point, coasting over her concerned expression before they drop to her breasts.

He starts to stand up again.

"Can you take off your jacket please?"

"Elliot," she looks at him awkwardly.

"It's important Liv."

She shakes her head before reluctantly removing the brown leather and letting it drop behind her onto the couch.

She is left standing in front of him in a loose fitting light grey t-shirt raising her hands as if to say _'now what'._

He starts to step a little closer and her eyes lock onto his nervously as he nears close. He watches her cautiously, her breath hitching as he goes for her shoulder, gently sliding the neck of her shirt to the side to expose a white bra strap.

He runs a thumb beneath the strap as he cups her shoulder.

"Were you wearing this, that night on the couch with me Liv?"

He is so close to her that he can feel her light breaths expelling against his face.

He catches a flicker of nervousness move through her eyes as her chest rises and falls beneath him.

"Your underwear," he confirms. "Was it white?"

She stares at him, a flurry of goosebumps breaking out across her flesh as her mouth parts nervously. He sees it then, his eyes dropping momentarily to his lips before they move back up to his.

"I ah El.. I don't remember."

He inches a fraction closer, his hand slipping from the strap entirely, to cup her shoulder.

"Try to remember Liv." He whispers, clutching her gently. "You were wearing a white t-shirt that night, so would it be fair to say you would have worn a white bra?"

She swallows, her eyes moving back and forth between his and she nods as if just remembering.

"Yeah, it was white."

"Okay."

He lets go of her shoulder, his mind reeling.

 _So precinct Olivia was in black._

 _Morning sex Olivia was in red._

 _And flash drive Olivia was in white._

He slips his phone out of his pocket and starts dialling a number before he puts it up to his ear.

She watches the side of his face curiously and it's a few moments before her ringtone is sounding through his apartment. She starts moving then, grasping the sleeve of her jacket from the couch and drawing it upwards until she is slipping her phone out.

She sees his name flashing back at her and her eyes lift up to his in confusion.

"Elliot," she whispers nervously. "What is this?"

He silences the call and shoves it back into his pocket.

"Promise me right now," he steps forward. "That you have no idea what's going on."

"I don't Elliot. I have no idea what you're talking about," she whispers, her voice slightly shaking. "But you're scaring the _shit_ out of me."

 _Silence._

Her mouth parts to continue before she changes course, instead dodging his unwavering stare and heading towards his coffee table. She wastes no time sliding his laptop towards her and pulling out the familiar stick from the side. His eyes widen at the sight of it, he had torn his entire apartment apart looking for it yesterday and now there was it ripe for the picking.

"I don't know what has gotten into you." She rasps, grasping her jacket off the couch and moving back in front of him. "But this entire thing is hard enough without you losing your goddamn mind, so can you please just keep it together."

 _Silence._

He just stares at her.

He doesn't have a response to that.

"I'm going to go," she whispers finally her eyes falling away from his. "Get some rest Elliot." She sighs. "I'll see you tomorrow."

And with that she is gone.

With the only piece of evidence he had left.

 _'I'll see you tomorrow.'_

He wasn't so sure about that.

 **TBC**

* * *

 _AN: More to come._


	7. Friday

_AN: If you're looking for a story with a well thought out comprehensive plot this isn't it._

 _I am appreciating the reviews tho!_

 _Disclaimer: This story will have graphic sex scenes. _

* * *

**CHAPTER 7: FRIDAY**

* * *

 **6:23am**

She is on him.

Around him.

Her breath.

Her touch.

Flashes of skin.

Flesh.

Red lace.

Silky chestnut hair tickling his sides, his chest, his inner thighs.

He is hard.

Granite.

He's not sure if he's dreaming.

Her soft hands are on him, running up his shaft.

Stroking.

Toying.

 _Fuck._

He breathes out.

He's close already.

The air around him is hot.

Sticky.

Palpable.

He is throbbing in her palm.

She teases the tip of his cock with her thumb.

He feels dampness, then it's moments before her mouth closes over him.

His eyes sip open, his consciousness coming back.

The light of the morning blinding his eyes.

It's not a dream.

She's beneath the covers.

Between his legs.

He is inside her mouth.

Her tongue flattening on his shaft, her hand holding his base steady as she slides him in and out of her slick mouth.

He is close.

Too close.

And she can feel it.

She pulls back.

Her tongue circling the tip before she trails her lips down the side of his shaft, stroking him lightly now, bringing him back from the edge.

The message is clear.

This will end on her terms.

A few beats pass before her mouth is on him once more this time she takes him deeper.

He groans when he feels his tip knock the back of her throat.

 _Fuck Liv._

A flush of hot white heat builds at his base, threatening to overflow and he's on the cusp.

 _He should stop this._

 _He should stop this._

 _He should stop this._

It's all he can think.

But her damp lips, that slick velvet tongue is engulfing his erection like a damn icy-pole.

She is done waiting it seems.

And there is nothing can do from stopping himself from going over the edge.

* * *

 **8:34am**

He had come in her mouth.

That's all he thinks about on his drive to work.

He had tried to stop it.

His hand had moved downward, his fingers digging into her shoulder in warning, trying to move her back.

But she didn't relent.

So he did.

 _Jesus_

His mind is still reeling at the concept.

She had barely said a thing after that, just climbed up his body, wiped her mouth and whispered three words in his ear.

 _Until next time._

And now here he was, driving to work again like it was goddamn Groundhog Day.

* * *

 **9:02am**

She has her back to him when he enters the precinct but he knows better this time.

This isn't the same woman who had just left his bedroom and he isn't going to make that mistake again.

When he sits down he chances a glance up at her.

He sees frustration staring back at him, reservation and a hint of tiredness.

 _Black or white… black or white…_

At this point it's any bodies guess.

He switches on his computer and moves the three day old coffee cup to the side of his screen.

He can feel her eyes on him and soon enough she leaning forward, keeping her voice low enough that they aren't overheard.

"So are you back?" Her tone is icy, almost like an accusation. "For good?"

His eyes flit to hers and the look she is giving him tells him she isn't up for a conversation, just an answer.

 _Is he back?_

 _Yes or no._

He doesn't need to see her underwear at that point.

 _Black._

"Just for the morning," he gives her. "I've got an appointment at 1."

 _Huang._

"I'm here to finish up paperwork on the Mackenzie case."

She holds his stare for a few moments before she is standing up. He watches her bend down to grasp her phone off the desk, her scoop neck shirt just low enough that he spies the hint of her black bra.

When her eyes lift to his she catches him staring at her cleavage and her eyes narrow in disbelief.

She is furious.

The stupid part is, he didn't even need to look.

And now he's just set them back.

 _Ten fold._

She turns away from him shaking her head, tugging on her coat briskly, fanning her hair out from beneath the collar.

An apology lodges somewhere in his throat but at this point it wouldn't matter.

"Where are you going?" He asks.

"Interview at Rikers. I take it you're not up for a field trip," she mutters sarcastically.

It's not a question.

That's when Fin grabs both of their attention, crossing the bullpen and nudging her playfully with an elbow.

"You drivin' _partner_?"

Olivia gives Fin a smile she usually reserves for him.

"You bet."

And then she is gone.

 **TBC**


	8. Friday Night

_AN: Gold star for Lauren! F_ _or hints on what this story is about please see her review! :)_

* * *

 **CHAPTER 8: FRIDAY NIGHT**

* * *

 **7:45pm**

He raises the glass of scotch to his lips and takes a generous sip.

He probably shouldn't drink, not when his mind is this messed up, but after his session today - he needs it.

Huang had looked at him like he had completely lost it.

And rightly so.

It was stupid to expect anything different and he knows that it's only a matter of time before word will travel back to Cragen.

All he can hope for now is for _White Olivia_ to show up.

Maybe they could develop a plan, speak to Cragen together, because at this point he's going to need all the backup he can get.

His phone starts to ring, the rattle on the wooden coffee table causing him to jump and his chest pounds with nerves when he sees her name lit up.

 _Olivia Benson._

If history was anything to go by, _White Liv_ was due to turn up next.

"Hey," he says.

 _Silence._

"Is that you?"

 _Nothing._

Then the phone goes dead.

A few beats pass as he stares at the screen, hoping it will come back to life once more.

He is seconds from returning her call when he is interrupted by a knock on his door.

He lets out the breath he is holding, rising slowly from the couch, praying to the heavens that she is sporting white lace.

He opens the door.

"Hey," he says. "Were you just trying to call me-"

But she is moving into his apartment, just about knocking him over in the process before slamming the door shut behind her.

Her eyes are wide and she looks downright furious.

"What the _hell_ did you say to Huang?"

 _Shit._

 _Black Olivia._

She looks as if she has been seething the entire car ride over here.

"Look Liv," he stutters, not sure how much she even knows, or how much he should be divulging.

"Start – talking."

He hasn't seen this kind of anger directed at him before and it throws him off centre.

She isn't playing.

"I don't know what you want me to say." He whispers.

Her eyes widen at that.

"How about starting with what you said to Huang."

A few beats pass before he says it.

"It's personal."

She looks away for a moment shaking her head before her eyes return to his.

"Personal?" She whispers with a humourless smile. "You want personal? How about Cragen pulling me into his office today and asking me flat out if I'm sleeping with you. You wanna tell me where the hell he got that idea?". Her brown eyes probe him for some sort of explanation but he has nothing, nothing that will make logical sense to her anyway.

He shakes his head. "Look, you wouldn't believe me even if I tried," he says simply, knowing there was no way of actually communicating with her.

"Elliot," she steps closer to him. " _You_ grabbed me in that locker room.. you _kissed_ me." She looks away briefly like she still can't believe it. "I said nothing to Cragen. I chalked it down to a rough day, some sort of brain snap for you. I took the high road for the sake of our partnership and then you go AWOL for two days only to come back and tell our company shrink that we're screwing?"

"Liv, that's not how it…" he shakes his head. "It wasn't like that."

"So what was it like then?" She spits.

But that's where his words stop.

Because this is futile.

There is no winning here.

"Look I think you should go."

His eyes drop to the floor.

But she steps forward, forcing his eye contact back up to hers.

"I'm not leaving until you tell me what the hell you said," she rasps.

" _Fuck - fine_." He spits. "I told him I can't work with you anymore because we... because I.."

 _Silence_.

"Because of _what_ Elliot?"

"Because I have feelings for you!"

He feels all the oxygen in the room evaporate in that second.

She is staring at him, her mouth parted, her expression blindsided.

She presses her eyes closed, as if she cannot believe what she is hearing.

"Elliot, you're dealing with our jobs …" she whispers. "Our reputations. What did you think, you could just tear our partnership apart from the inside? Make up some convoluted lie just to get us separated?"

He blinks back at her.

She shakes her head, trying to gather some semblance of control.

"And what if _I_ don't want a new partner?" Her eyes swing back to his. "Did you consider that for one second?"

He shrugs.

"You seemed pretty chummy with Fin today."

That does it.

"You know what, _screw you_." She starts to move past him, fury swiping at his sides as she passes and he lets her go because anymore talking will only get him into trouble.

The door slams harshly behind her and he knows.

He has well and truly fucked this up.

 **TBC**


	9. Monday Morning

_AN: Shout out to the reviewer who said she'd check back this September when I finally updated this lol. I laughed hard because true._ _This story is a lot to get your head around but thank you to those who are staying on for the ride._ _This is some low grade crack right here but it is going somewhere I promise._

* * *

 **CHAPTER 8: MONDAY MORNING**

* * *

 **11:11am**

The entire weekend had passed without a single word from her.

 _No red, black or white Olivia to be seen._

He didn't wake up to Olivia ransacking him in bed and as he stares at the woman across from his desk, he officially has no idea who he is looking at now. She could be sporting rainbow polka dot panties for all he knows.

He notices this version of his partner seems content and for the most part is emitting the grace of a swan, calm in her expression but he can almost feel her little swan legs working furiously beneath the surface of the water, only just keeping it together.

"You wanna grab some lunch." He tries, because he needs to know which version he is dealing with and getting her out of earshot from their coworkers is his best bet.

She looks up from her computer, surprised by his question but not necessarily opposed to it. He watches her mull on the suggestion before her eyes flit over to Fin, then something passes through her features and her eyes move back to his.

"I can't."

He doesn't push it, he simply returns to the file in front of him and worries his lower lip with his teeth instead. A few paragraphs into the court statement in front of him and his phone lights up beside him.

 **OLIVIA BENSON**

 _Talk after work._

 _Results came back on prints and saliva._

He looks up immediately, trying to gauge if that text was sent from the woman in front of him or if it came from elsewhere. She isn't looking at her phone at that moment but he sees it sitting next to her.

He responds with.

 _Okay._

He waits then, his chest pounding, his eyes glued to her phone in waiting. A few beats pass before she finally glances over at it, taking in the screen but her expression doesn't change and she moves straight back to her paperwork.

 _Damnit._

He can't be sure so he sends another message.

 _Don't leave the precinct without me today._

Her phone lights up and when she looks over at it her eyes dart immediately to his in question, but he can't answer the question in her eyes, at least not here and not now. All he knows is that if she leaves his sight today the next Olivia is likely to know nothing of the DNA and prints, and he needs to keep this seemingly amicable, swan like, non-nymphomaniac version of his partner by his side.

She doesn't respond so he sends another.

 _Trust me._

She pauses a beat before she sends back.

 _Okay._

* * *

 **6:44pm**

When they enter his apartment she lets it out like she's been holding it in for the entire car ride.

"Okay talk to me, what's going on?"

"Listen," he says once he moves her through the threshold. "I'm gonna need you to stay the night tonight." He locks the door behind them, threading the chain through the loop as if he is concerned someone will barge in at any minute. When he turns around she is staring at him in his hallway, completely thrown by his comment.

"Stay here?" She gives him a strange look before she shakes off her shoulder bag and drops it by the hall side table.

"Yeah," he responds walking into the kitchen. "We don't leave each others sides okay, not until I can figure out what the hell is going on. _But.._ if we do have to part ways for any reason," he starts hastily searching for something in a drawer, contents careening nosily back and forth as he searches. "I want you to use the word 'white' in conversation with me when you next see me okay. As soon as you see me, just say _white_ , it will make this whole thing a damn sight easier."

She drops a stack of paperwork on the counter beside him as he continues to rummage through the drawers.

"White?" She shakes her head in confusion."What the hell are you talking about Elliot. Are you losing your mind?"

"Possibly." He doesn't look up from his search. "But I'm still gonna need you to say it."

"So when I walk into the precinct each morning you want me to say: _Good Morning Elliot. White.._ that it?

"Yeah." He slams the kitchen drawer closed once he finds what he's looking for. "Either that, or you let me mark you." He steps towards her holding a magic marker in hand and her eyes widen as he approaches her.

"Sorry.. mark me?" She repeats.

"Yeah. So I know who I'm dealing with. So I either draw a 'W' on the back of your neck or you say the word to me everyday – which would you prefer?"

She grasps the marker from his hand and tosses it onto the counter.

"Jesus Elliot you really have lost your mind. I'll say the word okay but as for spending the night here," she glances around his apartment. "I'm not sure that's such a good idea."

He waits a few beats, realizing the concept is a lot more foreign to her than it is for him.

"I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important." He says seriously.

"Well you shouldn't be asking it at all," she mumbles still not looking at him.

He's unsure how far to push it, realising she is uncomfortable but if he lets her leave his sight he will spend days trying to find this version of her again.

"Look Liv," he says calmly. "If you're concerned about boundaries I'm pretty sure those were shot to hell the moment we slept together."

Her eyes flit to his immediately. "I'm not sure that counts if we don't remember it."

"Well I remember it."

Her eyes widen and she folds her arms protectively across her chest.

"You remember it?" She whispers. "As in you've always remembered it, or it's just coming back to you now?"

"Not the night of the footage.. I'm talking about last week, the two mornings I woke up to you going down on me."

Her eyes widen in disbelief. "Jesus Elliot, what on earth are you talking about?"

"Liv," he steps forward trying to up the urgency, knowing the entire truth will have to come out for her to take this seriously. "I don't know what's happening to me and I don't expect you to even follow half of this insanity but you saw the footage yourself and you don't remember it, so what if the woman in the tapes wasn't actually you. Do you think that's at all possible? Because each time you leave my side, a new version of you shows up and it's either one who wants to rip me a new one, or one that wants to-"

"Screw you?" She finishes off with a look. "Elliot, are you hearing yourself? This is insane, there aren't multiple versions of me, there's just _me_ and when we woke up that morning I could feel the effects of what we did - believe me I know we had sex that night. It was me in those tapes Elliot, only now it seems I'm the only one who doesn't remember it." She finishes off in a rasp.

They pause for a long drawn out minute and he can see the frustration building in her eyes so he takes a step back.

"I know how this all sounds," he whispers, running a hand across his three day old stubble. "And I have no way of actually explaining this Liv, all I know is if you walk out that door the next time we meet I can guarantee you'll have no recollection of this conversation and the whole thing will start all over again, so please, all I'm asking is that you just stay here. Just tonight."

She sighs, letting out a heavy breath and shaking her head.

She doesn't answer in words but when she settles her hip against the counter he feels the fight slowly starting to leave her.

He just stares at her then, unsure where to take it from here but luckily she saves him the hassle.

"Not to add to this shit show of insanity Elliot but there's something you should see."

She motions to the stack of papers before she rifles through it and hands him a specific page.

He takes the sheet from her.

"What am I looking at?"

"The results from the prints and DNA. They're ours."

He blinks back at her.

"All of them," Olivia explains. "Your saliva was found on my envelope, mine was found on yours. Your prints were on my envelope, mine were on yours.."

"That's impossible."

"Right." She agrees.

"So what Liv? We sent each other those tapes and now we just don't remember it, that what you're telling me?"

"Either that or someone is fucking with us."

He tosses the report on the counter and scrubs both hands down his face. "Jesus this is just getting worse by the minute." His words come out muffled by his hands.

She steps forward and grasps his wrists at that point, slowly bringing them back down so he is facing her.

"I don't know what the hell is happening El," she locks eyes with him. "But there has to be an explanation for all of this, we've just got to try and keep our heads on long enough to find out what it is. Do you think we can do that?"

He knows what she's doing, she's doing her best to talk him off his metaphorical ledge so he doesn't make this much, much worse.

He looks down to where she is still holding him and he starts to soften in her grasp, thankful that this version of his partner is willing to help him figure this out.

She finally drops her hands away from his and her eyes move towards the couch.

"So where exactly is it that you want me to sleep?"

He chews on the inside of his cheek as he considers her question.

"Anywhere Liv." He whispers. "Just somewhere I can see you."

 **TBC**


	10. Monday Night

_AN: Thank you for all your kind words regarding this story. I know it's a total mind f**k but I really appreciate you guys bending reality with me and allowing me to try something different. Apologies again for the infrequent updates on all my stories. The words don't flow as well as they used to._

* * *

 **CHAPTER 10: MONDAY NIGHT**

* * *

 **9:55pm**

She draws down the comforter on his bed, sporting a pair of his gym shorts and a NYPD t-shirt and watches as he climbs into the opposite side.

"Let the record state," she begins with a look. "The only reason I'm not on the couch is because I'm not about to have you lying on the living room floor watching me sleep."

"Noted." He says tugging up the sheet and turning away from her to switch off his bedside lamp. He feels her move under the covers but the room doesn't evaporate into darkness like he expects and he soon realizes it's because she is struggling with her own lamp.

He looks over at her trying every which way to turn it off and it's instant, his eyes coast down her pajama clad body until they land on her ass. He never imagined in a million years Olivia Benson would be sharing his bed let alone that he'd be ogling her ass.

"You've gotta push it in." He tells her, feeling like a grade A ass for focusing on her backside like this.

"I know how a light works Elliot," she mumbles sarcastically, moving up onto her elbows, still fumbling with it. "It's jammed."

He moves across the bed then, his chest haphazardly bumping her shoulder as he attempts to grasp the light from her. Their fingers brush as he pushes the switch in but it won't budge, he tries again and again but it won't relent.

"I told you." She rasps, her hand coming off the light entirely but realizing she's got nowhere to go. He moves up onto his hands and knees to get a better hold, not realizing it results in his body practically caging hers in the process.

They are close now.

 _Real close._

He's pretty much on top of her.

He looks down at her, the heavy scent of her shampoo sending him into a spin.

"I'm gonna switch it off at the wall," she whispers up at him and he can tell she is uneasy.

She starts to move up and he allows her space to move off the bed, watching as she pulls the plug firmly out of the wall.

They're enveloped in darkness and he holds his breath, wading through the silence until she is sinking back down into bed once more.

He presses his eyes closed.

Then he hears is.

"El."

"Yeah." He whispers quietly.

"Do you need me to take the couch?"

The question renders him still.

She had caught his desire clear as day.

"No," he whispers quietly.

A few beats of silence pass until she says it.

"Night Elliot."

* * *

 **2:03am**

He wakes up to a face full of soft fragrant tresses, somehow his body had found it's way sidled up against hers in the night. His hand is resting on her hip as his chest coats her back. She isn't moving but he can feel her soft, continuous breaths against him. He sighs into the back of her hair, their positioning feeling far too familiar than it should. God she smells good. A few beats pass, his hand aching to run across the lip of her t-shirt where the small strip of skin is exposed but somehow he manages to refrain.

He feels her start to stir against him and he holds his breath ready to feel her recoil at their proximity but instead she just stills in place and they both wade through the silence. He can feel her breathing has changed in response to her consciousness and his mouth aches to descend on the back of her neck, desperate to pepper a stream of warm kisses on her cool skin. He imagines his tongue tracing her avidly until a low sound leaves her throat, husky in timbre. He already knows how her body would react to his, how it would respond and he can feel the makings of his erection forming at the memories of her going down on him.

"Elliot."

He freezes in place.

"Uh huh."

Silence.

"How do I know you didn't send those tapes?"

He blinks against the darkness and he feels like he's just been sucker punched in the gut.

 _Did he just hear that right?_

He pulls back, his hand slipping off her hip and he stares at the back of her head in shock.

"Seriously?" He whispers.

She begins to turn around then and face him, he can only just make her features out in the darkness.

"I'm just asking." She says slowly. "How do I know?"

He must be dreaming.

For her to be honestly asking that question, a dream would be the only explanation.

"I'm not going to dignify that with an answer."

"How do I know?" She repeats once more.

"Because I'm your partner for Godsake." He rasps back, furious that she'd think for a second he could have somehow created this entire thing.

"The same partner who invited me into his bed for God knows what reason." She doesn't miss a beat.

He moves back and scrubs a hand over his face.

"Jesus that's not what this is."

"Elliot I'm well aware of what you want." She responds. "You can't go five seconds without touching me."

"I didn't send those tapes Olivia." He shakes his head at her. "And I certainly didn't secretly record us _fucking_ without your knowledge. Are you actually aware what you're accusing me of?"

She stays deathly silent and he shakes his head in dismay.

"You kissed me that night on your couch." He whispers through the darkness. "The night we watched the footage. You do remember that don't you?"

"What's your point?" She whispers back.

"Well I'm well aware of what you want too, you're just a hell of a lot better at hiding it."

That shuts her up.

But not for long.

She grasps her pillow and tugs the bed sheet clean off his body.

"I'll be on the couch."

 **TBC**


End file.
